Tag
by D.VAncomycin
Summary: If Reaver can get his revenge and a bounty at the same time, he intends on doing so. D/G


Light filtered into their hotel room in from the bright banners of the Calden Port City. They had stopped there in a morning, looking to borrow the appropriate heavy equipment they needed for a solar sail repair, and had managed a contract just before the sun set. The authorities at Calden demanded a complete power down of all ships after hours to keep illicit activities and smuggling to a minimum in the dead of night, and so they had resorted to temporary housing for the next few days while they repaired and restocked. Normally, Seth would be relieved for such a reprieve, as even he wasn't immune to the constant stress of travel, but the negotiations today had been particularly stressful and drawn out, and it had left him frustrated and annoyed at seemingly everything.

And so, it was her job to put it right. Coaxing him out of his bad mood started off harder than she thought; even as she turned her charms onto him, running her hands over his chest and kissing his earlobe, he still resisted at first, content to be exasperated. But she was patient, wearing him down, letting him list off his preferences as the evening advanced into a naughty romp, painted in the blazing neon colors of the downtown area. She was straddled over him now, controlling the pace of motion as he drank in the view and let her lead the dance for once.

He groaned as she flexed and moved, trying to spit her name out and failing.

She let loose a low, husky chuckle. "Tell me what you're after. Use your words," she teased.

He had to battle for the vocabulary. "Let me touch you."

She noted that as is, she was distant enough that he did not have as easy access to all of her as he did when he was the aggressor. She leaned forward to acquiesce, shifting her weight from his hips temporarily. She pressed into his hands and chest, the cold tingle of the dog tags he only wore off ship in event of the worst brushing against her breast bone. He grabbed all the flesh he could, hips and breast and ass as she focused in on his neck, feverishly working at a spot he knew would bruise by morning. He felt the front of her teeth close on the spot firmly as he slid a hand between her legs.

"Who's running this show?" she admonished, though there was little vitriol as she shivered.

"I wanted to touch. I meant it. Didn't you tell me anything I wanted went?"

She did tell him that. That didn't mean he wouldn't pay for trying to pull control from her.

She returned an equivalent favor, all the while seeking out the erogenous spot behind his ear she knew turned him to mush. He nearly jumped off the bed.

"Turnabout is fair play, no?" she whispered, "What else are you looking for?"

He swallowed hard. "You'd better finish the job and avoid that again."

She half-obeyed, lips returning to the aforementioned spot. "Back to before?" she asked, "Any further requests?"

He raked a hand through her hair and tugged it gently to bring them into eye contact.

"One. Tell me you love me."

An odd request, both sexual and romantic, cocky and unsure. She tilted in such a way that allowed her to press her forehead to his and hips to realign. She took him up again, hissing, "You know very well how I think of you."

"Say it anyway," he insisted.

She made direct eye contact with him again, his blue eyes an exotic color when mingled with the violet lights outside. "You are the absolute love of my life," she replied before kissing him firmly on the mouth. He moaned his approval against the bruising kiss.

"Anything else?" she asked when she pulled back.

"No. Feel free to finish me off."

And so she did. Even after a few years together, she knew she'd ever get tired of watching his pleasure peak; the deepness of his vocalizations, the firmness of his muscles, the way his hands clutched at anything that would ground him back to reality. He was an Adonis.

When they finished, he lay with his arm thrown over his eyes, gasping through open mouth and swollen lips to intake air. She was spent on top of him, sweaty and warm. He loved it.

She caught her breath first. "I trust we're less angst-ridden now," she said.

"I'm pretty sure my brain couldn't function at that level right now," he panted, still winded.

She lifted herself from him, the body heat suddenly too extreme for her. "I'm going to bathe. You worked me far too hard."

"Speak for yourself."

She managed to muster the strength to leave the bed, and he heard her draw a bath moments later. He himself was a mess; he could stand to clean up. He steadied himself and made himself as presentable as possible before entering the bathroom after her. She was already in the tub, buried in bubbles.

"Let me join you," he requested.

She turned a coy grin on him. "My answering your demands without fail ends at climax, my dear."

"Fine. PLEASE let me join you."

She shrugged. "I suppose that's agreeable. Be a gentleman, though."

He nodded, slipping in the large bath across from her.

"Thanks for taking my mind off things," he began.

"No need to thank me," she replied, reaching over and grabbing a bottle of shampoo to rinse the sweat from her hair, "You need to be taken care of from time to time."

He took the bottle from her and signaled for her to spin around. She did, excited with the prospect of him even washing it for her—she did so love his fingers in her tresses.

"I don't know why those contractors got to me today," he said, working the soap through her hair.

"I don't think it was them," she mused, closing her eyes and enjoying the tingling in her scalp, "You've been on edge lately. It just came to a head today."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"It's been a rough little patch of space, these last few parsecs, hasn't it?"

He nodded. "Worse than usual. Plus, I can't describe it—I just have this gut feeling something's not right."

"Enough troubles in a short span and everything will put you on high alert. I think that's what made you lose your temper today."

"I suppose," he murmured, rinsing off her red locks, "I'll be happy to leave this sector behind."

"Two days, love. The contractors said it wouldn't take but the weekend."

"Here's hoping. I love having these moments we can't have on board," he gestured to the tub, "But every day we spend here is another we add to the trip home. I'm sure the crew won't care for too long a delay."

"We'll be away with no problems. With you and the rest of the gentlemen watching, they'll be likely to keep up the pace."

"You and the girls will be okay getting supplies tomorrow?"

"Of course. Catalina and Rosie have been striving to make impressions on us with their maturity and reliability. I predict a smooth afternoon."

He kissed the back of her damp neck. "Well, the ladies are more likely to get the job done without drama than the boys are."

"Hence why I'm saddling them with you," she smirked.

He laughed, and she settled against him, the two of them enjoying the warm water for a moment as sleep started to creep in the corners of their consciousness.

"We should consider actually going to bed soon," she said after a few minutes of relaxing silence.

He hummed, then spoke. "One thing first."

She could feel the difference in his posture behind her; his muscles were a little tenser.

"Why do I feel like you have bad news?" she asked.

"Not bad," he replied, "I hope not bad."

She craned her neck over her shoulder to watch him fidget, run his hand through damp hair, then tug the dog tags over his head. He dangled them in front of her.

"When I was in the service during wartime," he explained, "It was a thing to give these away to civilians. Drove the brass insane."

"I'll bet," she replied. They had their role, identifying bodies, should they be too mangled to do so on sight. Despite their macabre use, she could see why the officers wanted them on their soldiers and didn't much like to incur the cost of new ones en masse.

"Usually," he continued, voice somewhat awkward, "You gave them to whoever you were seeing at the time. Kind of a marker, of sorts, to let people know your other was taken, even if you weren't physically there as evidence."

She blushed. "What are you getting at? Is this your way of saying you want me to wear those?"

"That's exactly what I'm getting at."

She felt a tingle run up her spine, but covered it by joking with him. "Marking your property?"

He frowned. "Not it at all. I'm the one handing off to you—if anything, I'm giving myself over as yours."

She turned to face him. "I'm joking with you. I know you'd never think that way. I just…this feels so much like a…proposal, or something."

His whole body flushed red. "I…uh…didn't realize how it might look like that."

She touched his cheek. "Oh, Seth," she chuckled, "Sometimes you're wonderful with words, and others…well, in any case, this is not a proposal, yes?"

He shook his head. "You deserve a better proposal than a set of 25 year old metal scraps given to you in a tub after I sulked all day. Think of this as a promise that I want to give you that one day."

It was her turn to blush. "I see," she said sheepishly, not able to make eye contact as she willed her heart to stop racing and her mind to stop screaming at him 'Damn your moonlit walk and diamond ring, ask me now, you great oaf!' She reached out and took the tags from him, slipping them over head and releasing them to nestle between her breasts, cool metal on her flushed skin. "Don't tell the brass. You're already in big enough trouble."

He smiled widely and held her close. They stayed until the water was tepid and the urge to sleep unfightable.

* * *

Leaving the men to help the contractors work, she wandered with the ladies into the streets of the city. Being that medlab and engineering were often the greatest users of supplies outside of the food wheel, the two were best suited to help her with the task of securing everything. She was determined to be off to the first stop—a produce supplier—when Catalina whirled around and faced her and Rosie.

"Soooo, Suzee and I were talking," she began, "And we have plenty of time to do all this—it'll take half a day at most."

"Probably," Rosie answered, "But why are you bringing it up?"

"Because, I think this is the perfect spot for a bit of a girls' adventure."

"Adventure?" Rosie inquired, "Like what?"

"Sky's the limit!" Cat exclaimed, "Big city, big lights, I mean, take your pick! What do you want to do?"

Rosie clapped her hands together. "I've always wanted to go on a boat! They don't have them on Mercury since, well, we don't have great spans of water. There's a big river with people on little boats—let's do that!"

"Perfect! And Suzee and I found out there's an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district that is reported to be haunted. Could be fuuuunn."

"Ladies," Davenport cleared her throat, "We are on a mission."

Rosie looked at her with sweet, pleading eyes. "Miss Davenport, Cat's right. We have two whole days for a task that only takes half of one. We haven't just had fun and explored for a while. And it'd be a good bonding experience."

"Please, Miss Davenport?" Cat begged.

T.J. looked between her two charges. Though the crew had gotten that much closer, there were still times she felt removed from the students, like she couldn't quite make a full connection. Perhaps this was a way out of that rut with the girls.

"Oh, very well," she sighed, "But absolutely no haunted warehouse."

"That's cool, we could try the speeder races in midtown," Catalina gushed, "I'd love the see what kind of things they fabricate out of scrap heap."

"I suppose that's more savory," the teacher yielded, "Half a day. Back to work after lunch."

"Yes! Let's go, races start in an hour," Cat said, tugging on Rosie's arm.

"I'm surprised she's agreeing to the races," Rosie giggled, whispering to her colleague.

"That's why I led with the warehouse bit. Makes it look tame in comparison."

* * *

The races were loud, dirty and crass, and she had had to order the girls not to place bets, but they both seemed to be excited at the event, so she chose to make the best of it. Another hour or so, and they'd try Rosie's request—boats were probably more her speed, pending Rosie didn't have a particularly fast one in mind. She let the girls enjoy while she tried to stay aware of their immediate surroundings amongst the group of hardened spacers and gamblers.

Rosie excused herself to the restroom at one point, and T.J. had carefully watched her go, only turning her gaze from the Mercurian when she slipped into the queue for the toilets.

Catalina chose that time to engage her, and thus she didn't notice until over 10 minutes had past that Rosie failed to return.

"Where in blazes is she?" she fretted.

Cat looked a little concerned herself. "We should check it out. Rosie can sometimes get caught in weird situations because she doesn't like telling people 'no'."

The two women left their seats, scanning the crowd for pink.

T.J. had insisted they stay together as they crossed through the hallways of the center, so they both took the blinding hit to the back of the head when it came, throwing them both into darkness.

* * *

She awoke to Rosie shaking her shoulder and calling her name. When she opened her eyes, she could see that her hands were bound, and could feel throbbing from the sizable goose egg forming on the back of her skull.

"Miss Davenport, are you alright?" her youngest student asked.

"A headache, but fine," she muttered. She took in her surroundings for a moment. "Where are we?"

"Looks like a jail cell," Rosie lamented.

"Grozit," Catalina moaned, "Not again."

"Did either of you ladies note who our captor is?"

The girls shook their head.

"It's odd, because Rosie was taken in a separate time and place—why collect us specifically?" T.J. pondered.

"Because," a voice rang into the room, "Going bounty for you pains in the ass is 50,000 a head. You musta really pissed off Warlord Shank if he's willing to give up that kind of money."

Rosie gasped when she caught a glimpse of the newcomer. "Reaver!"

"Right in one, Pink Girl," he grinned maliciously, "And what a fortunate coincidence that I spotted your ship yesterday. All told, I stand to make 350,000 off your crew alone, and probably a handsome bounty for the ship. You're all going to make a man very rich. Thank you, kindly."

Though Catalina hadn't been witness to the meeting with the pirate on Kareesh 9, she had heard the tales from Suzee. The man was not to be trifled with, but still, she hated jails.

"Well you have less than half of us," she spat.

Reaver chuckled. "But you see, I have an advantage other hunters DON'T have. I know how Seth Goddard operates. At about 1800 hours tonight, he'll have expected his away party to have returned for the evening. 1830, 1900 hours rolls around—no sight of you. By 2000 hours, he begins sending out the search parties. That's the excellent thing about good ol' Commander Noble; I don't have to find the other half of the crew—they'll come to me."

The women all exchanged glances, knowing that that was absolutely how the Commander would act this evening.

"In the meantime," Reaver continued, "I'll be bored waiting for him to show up with the rest of your damn patchwork crew, and so maybe we'll have a little fun, you three, and I."

From his belt, he produced a heavy nightstick.

"See, Calden is great because you can get any manner of anything under the veil of a busy metropolis like this," he mused, "I mean to use this on my dear old friend once he arrives, but I figure maybe I'll test it out on you first."

Rosie blanched. "You'll kill us."

"Are you thick, Mercurian?" he spat, pointing to each woman in turn with his next words, "Fifty. Thousand. A head. You don't mean shit to me dead. I intend on figuring out what will kill you, and backing it off, just a little bit."

The two younger girls shuddered the shudder T.J. only just managed to suppress. Reaver frightened her, but still.

"Leave the students be," she commanded, voice uncertain, "If you wish to practice your acts of cruelty, you can fight a damn adult."

Reaver raised an eyebrow at her. "Much more fire than when I last met you," he complimented, lowering the doorway to the electric cell they were in and pulling her off the floor roughly. "I'd recommend not taking too many pages from Goddard's book, sister. Might kill ya."

"Surely Seth will kill you first," she hissed at him.

"He likes to spout false bravado all the time too," Reaver said with a 'tsk' before backhanding her, sending her to the floor. "Sure you want to continue through his teachings? It'll be more fun for me—good practice until the real deal walks through my door."

T.J. ran her tongue over her teeth. All accounted for, but she could taste blood in her mouth from a busted lip. She raised a chin defiantly at him. "You'll need it, considering you don't have the spine or the brains in a fair fight against him."

Reaver's face turned to stone before he grabbed her by the arm again. "We'll see how brave you are once we get acquainted with some of my new toys," he barked, "And here's the rub—we play until I'm damn well done for the day. If you can't take it, I move on to the others. I think I'll take rainbow head over there."

T.J.'s heart clenched in fear, but she'd be damned if she let this pirate see it. She fought all the way to his armory store, and was praying the girls couldn't make out her cries after the fact.

* * *

1900 hours, and he was impatient.

No supplies, no word, no sight of the rest of the crew.

"Did Miss Davenport go rogue?" Harlan wondered aloud, "If so, good on her—didn't know she had it in her."

"Probably got kidnapped," Bova shrugged nonchalantly.

"We haven't seen all three of them," Radu added, "They all would have had to go rogue or get kidnapped. Seems a bit impossible."

"Can it, all of you," Goddard snapped, surveying the horizon of the docking station for any trace of the girls returning.

"Maybe she's out on a hot date," Harlan prodded Goddard, knowing full well that his commanding officers were an item.

"And she took Cat and Rosie with her?" Bova rolled his eyes, "Lame date."

"Enough," Seth commanded, "It's late. We need to start looking for them."

"Where do we start?" Radu asked.

"We know the general area where they were looking for supplies. We comb that clean. I want them found by sunrise, gentlemen."

Harlan noted the seriousness on the Commander's face and suddenly realized that it was very likely a dangerous situation that his two friends and teacher had found themselves in. The thought of something happening to Cat, Rosie or Miss Davenport sobered him.

"C'mon," he said, "Let's get moving."

* * *

Rosie would never tell her teacher, but she didn't sleep a wink in their cell that night.

Reaver had returned with Miss Davenport an hour later, dumping her battered body at their feet. As best she could with her hands bound and little to use as bandage save for the jackets of their uniforms, she tended to the numerous burns, cuts and bruises on the teacher's body. Catalina had helped her, guessing at what weapons he had in his storeroom that they might next be the ones privy to.

"Looks like a control taser, some sort of knife—serrated, maybe—that stick of his, and a mystery something that caused these couple of burns. If I didn't know better, I'd say it was a welder burn."

Rosie winced. She had imagined Reaver dangerous, but perhaps not so sadistic. She had underestimated his cruelty.

Out of concern, she stayed awake with Miss Davenport all night, tending to her when needed. In the morning, both Reaver and Ubi appeared.

"There's a rumor going around the main dock this morning that they're looking for you. I'm having Ubi go out to track them this morning; hopefully, he'll be able to trap them and you'll be spared too many more days of practice at my hands," Reaver said, false glee in his voice, "In the meantime, Good Morning, dear teacher. We had a spectacular time yesterday. Perhaps another round?"

Catalina and Rosie fretted the hour she was gone until Reaver dumped her back in the cell, groaning in pain. "Barely tired," he complained, "She's not so brave on day 2." He reached out and grabbed Catalina by the hair. "Let's see if you're made of sterner stuff."

* * *

Everyone in the search party was exhausted and frustrated. Clues were few and the night had been long. There was no trace of the missing second half.

"Where the hell are they?" Harlan snapped, "I feel like we've searched everywhere."

"Everywhere on this side of the port," Radu sighed, "Haven't touched the east end."

"This is bullshit," Harlan replied, "Someone had to see something."

"I hope they're not dead," Bova muttered. Harlan and Radu noticed the slight change in the boy's usual phrasing—he wasn't casually making his usual macabre joke about them being dead; he was worried they might be.

"They're not," Radu soothed, "I wish I could hear them, but the city is so noisy. Still, I feel like they're still around, somewhere."

Harlan yawned and shook off his fatigue, noting that the Commander, who had just finished up a conversation with a local and looked downtrodden, was headed back their way.

"Looks like a bust," Harlan sighed, "Let's head east."

* * *

By nightfall, both Catalina and Rosie had had a turn at Reaver's wrath as he tried to beat answers about the ship out of them that would help him get a higher price from the Spung. Catalina was proud that she managed to stay tight-lipped, and prouder still of Rosie, who had done the same.

"How's your eye?" she asked the younger girl.

"I think its fine, just swollen shut. Your hand?"

Cat winced, "He went out of his way to break a finger."

Rosie sighed, then turned to Miss Davenport, who seemed to just be rousing since the first time that morning.

"Good heavens…" she whimpered.

"You okay?" Rosie asked, leaning in to help her sit up.

She nodded, frowning when she noticed the wounds on both girls. "When did you—"

"You've been out cold all day," Rosie replied, "I guess he decided wailing on you while passed out is less fun."

"I'm very sorry," T.J. lamented.

"Don't be," Catalina said calmly, "I'm beginning to get the impression that half the reason he's doing this is to keep us just injured enough and just scared enough that escape is harder on our part. He'd have gotten around to us anyway. Besides—better to spread it around than let you take all the heat."

T.J. shook her head in disagreement, but moved on. "Any potential for freeing ourselves?"

Catalina frowned. "None I could see. The forward walls are electric, the other sides are seamless steel. No vents, no drains, no power sources within reach. He's mapped it out well."

Davenport sighed. "It would seem our best chance is next time he removes one of us."

"One of us can't take both of them," Rosie fretted, "Especially wounded like this."

"I hate to say it, but waiting for a rescue might be our only option," Catalina replied.

T.J. hated to accept this, but feared the girls were right. She had little time to ponder the idea when Reaver returned for his evening check-in.

"Good news, ladies," he grinned, "Ubi's spotted your male counterparts on the east end of the city. They're but 40 city blocks from here. I'll have him keep an eye out and let them run themselves ragged until tomorrow morning. Be a lot easier to fight an Andromedan who's nearing exhaustion. I was around them during the war—they don't cope well after losing more than about 30 hours of sleep. Uranians do even worse."

He pointed to Catalina. "You. I have some more questions for you tonight."

Catalina spat at him. "Well you can fuck right off."

Reaver shook his head. "Not nice. I seem to remember you hating the welder. Perhaps you'll behave if I drag it back out again."

The fear in Catalina's eyes drove Davenport to grab her student's arm as Reaver grabbed the other to wrestle her away. The two tugged at the Saturian, until Reaver caught T.J. by the collar of her shirt and threw her to the floor. Splayed out, Reaver caught an interesting detail.

"Wait—you're a civvy."

T.J. snarled at him. "Astute, for a flunky."

He grabbed her by the collar and hoisted her up to eye level, pulling the ball chain that had glinted at him out of her shirt.

"How the fuck did you get these, then?"

She held her breath as Reaver turned the embossed metal tags over in his hand. His grin was positively sinister.

"Well, now. This changes A LOT." He threw a glance over his shoulder at Catalina. "Saved by an old-school tradition, girl. I'm taking her instead. Lucky you."

Neither girl knew exactly why Reaver had suddenly changed plans, but neither felt good about it.

For T.J.'s part, she fought him all the way down the long main hall, only momentarily distracted when they passed his armory. He dragged her to a different room this time, throwing her in to the darkness of it before letting the door shut behind him and snapping on the light. She squinted against the sudden brightness, but once she adjusted, she noticed that, of all things, she was in living quarters. Somehow, this gave her a deeper feeling of dread than the makeshift torture chamber.

He laughed to himself as he stood before her. "You are truly a blessing, you know that?"

She stood ramrod straight, giving him no expression.

"You know what the difference between Seth Goddard and I is?"

"Honor? Talent? Good looks? Need I keep guessing?" she glared at him.

Reaver chose to ignore her. "Goddard thinks with his heart. I think with my head. It's much, MUCH easier to defeat a man who leads feelings first—you can kill him as many times as you want before his death."

She swallowed.

"I had no idea that he'd gone on find himself a little girlfriend," he jeered, "See, the key to getting to Seth is to attack his gut feelings. His pride. His code of honor. Perhaps the deep love of a woman. I intended on getting my revenge on him by torturing him a great deal before the Spung came to retrieve him, and you're going to help me make that torture that much deeper and easier."

"You'll kill me, is that it?" she said, disappointed when her voice came out shaky.

"What is it with you do-gooders and your inability to recognize what a fucking bounty is? I told you—you're money. Can't sell a slave without a slave to sell."

He approached her, grasping her behind the head by the hair.

"Here's the thing to learn about men. We're primitive. We're easy to figure out—we're basically the same knuckle-dragging cavemen we've always been. We don't like sharing what's ours, and there's no better way to fuck with a man's head than by taking something he values away from him. Why do you think he's so pissed at me? I took his rank, his job. And here, now, out of the blue, you fall into my lap with his dog tags around your neck. Can you imagine, then, how pissed he's going to be if I take that pleasure away from him too?"

"And how will you do that, short of killing me?" she barked at him.

"By going back to the good ol' days of what we men used to do when we ransacked the villages of our adversaries. Want to kill a man before he dies? Strip him of his dignity. Take his home. Torture his children. Rape his woman. Leave him with no pleasures."

Her eyes widened.

"A thousand pardons that it has to be this way," he shrugged, not a trace of remorse in his tone, "I told you were getting behind the wrong man." He pressed her firmly against the rear wall then, trapping her body between it and his body.

"I can't imagine he'll think much of bedding you if he has to think of me every time he does it," he growled, biting her shoulder over the fading scratch marks Seth had left not days before, "I can't wait until he finds out how I fucked you."

She struggled against his grip, but was weak from his tortures the days before. She was horrified when he snaked a hand up under her shirt. His touch was a stark contrast to Seth's—this hard was callused, rough, with a grip too hard, attached to a man who didn't care that all these things felt so wrong.

It made her sick when he moaned into the shoulder he was addressing. "He always was a tits kinda man. I can see why he's desperate to hang on to you."

She was about to throw something scathing at him, but froze, petrified, as he toyed with her uniform belt. Her pulse was racing and her head spinning as he managed to loosen the clasp with the hand that wasn't holding her to the wall. If he could figure that out, the zipper and button would prove no challenge. She struggled again to no avail, heart pounding out of her chest as his fingers flicked at the button.

"Reaver," Ubi's voice came over the speaker in the room, just to the left of her ear.

"What? I'm occupied."

"So you're not interested that the rest of your bounty is approaching the east docks?" the cat-like man replied, bored.

Reaver released her. "Looks like your prince did come," he said, "No matter. I'll keep you in here for now, and we can resume this later. It'll be more fun if I can let him listen in anyway." With that, the pirate left, using the door's keypad to bolt the door heavily behind him.

Left alone, she collapsed to the floor, shaking with terror. She had to take a long moment to catch her breath and let her mind catch up to anything more than the fact that she had very nearly been raped by her boyfriend's arch nemesis. The thought disgusted her. The thought of him capturing Seth, of how his heart would shatter if he would be forced by Reaver to witness him attempt the assault on her again…well, that thought enraged her. As indignant as she was for his violation of her space, she was outright furious that the pirate would drag him into a spiral of self-loathing all the while defiling her. She'd be goddamned if either one of them would be his victim.

She righted her clothing and rushed to the door, thoughts on what had almost happened pushed temporarily from her mind. The keypad glared back at her, demanding a passcode if she wanted to use any of the door's functions.

"You'd better hope this is a quality lock," she sneered. Fingers blitzing to the computer's core programing, she easily found a way to override, and the door slid open.

"What a shame. Seems you need that bounty money, if this is what you invest in."

She looked back down the hallway he dragged her down. It was empty, but she could hear Reaver and Ubi's voices close, not three doors down, in the cockpit. She'd have to make a run for it, no matter how bruised and tired her body was. Adrenaline pumping, she managed to dart her way down the hall and to the brig, shutting the door behind her.

Catalina and Rosie both looked up at her when she slid in.

"Miss Davenport!"

"Shhhh!" she waved her hands, "We're getting out of here."

The girls looked at her and nodded. Using the same methodology as the room lock, she managed to disable the electric cell wall.

"Such cheap design," she lamented, following the girls as they took up whatever meager parts and tools were in the brig for makeshift weapons.

Improperly armed, they nonetheless poked their heads out of the brig door.

"I think the airlock is that way," Catalina whispered, pointing in the direction opposite the cockpit. They set forth, trying for speed and stealth on ankles and legs that probably had several hairline fractures between them. When they spotted the airlock, Reaver spotted them.

"Ubi!" he hollered.

"Go!" Davenport hollered, throwing open the airlock and shoving Rosie out first.

Catalina followed second, sprinting behind Rosie, down the gangplank. T.J. was half out the lock when she felt the pirate grab her arm and pull her to the ground. Catalina turned abruptly, closing the gap in two paces and swung the 3 feet of titanium protomix wire she had acquired on the way out at Reaver. Regrettably, she hit both her teacher and the pirate at the same time, but the stunned him long enough for both her and Rosie, who had returned to the fray, to drag the teacher from the mess, right her, and for the three of them to sprint off into the bright lights of the city.

* * *

Radu could feel his hearing muffling and his vision blurring; lack of sleep was definitely starting to catch up with him. Bova looked worse, barely able to keep himself upright. He was a little proud of the Uranian—he knew Bova thrived on sleep, and for him to have toughed it out this long spoke volumes about his concern for the missing crew. To his right, Harlan and Goddard assumed the usual state of a human deprived of sleep—they were cranky.

"What the hell?" Harlan whined as they turned the corners to face the lower side docks, "What if they aren't even on planet anymore?"

"Don't," Goddard snapped, "We finish the sweep and then worry about more complex shit."

Bova yawned a long, deep yawn before blinking into the distance several times. "Uh, I'm hallucinating, I hope."

"Why do you hope that?" Harlan asked, annoyed.

"Well, that's a familiar pirate ship, otherwise," he pointed.

Seth's blood ran cold. "That son of a bitch."

"Is that Reaver's ship?" Radu asked.

"Holy hell," Harlan breathed, "Well, good news is, I think we found the girls."

"He'd better hope that's not the goddamn case," Seth snarled. He was about to head toward the ship when Radu caught his arm.

"Wait. I think I hear them—Ubi and Reaver, I mean—they're leaving the ship."

"Why?"

Radu strained to listen closely through the fatigue. "I think…yeah, he's saying they've lost them."

"Who?" Harlan asked hurriedly.

Radu blushed. The exact phrase he heard was "The two annoying kids and Goddard's whore," but he knew there'd be a different hell to pay for repeating it, so he translated. "Cat, Rosie, and Miss Davenport."

"You think they escaped?"

"Perhaps," Radu said, still straining, Harlan's close voice suddenly much harder for him to dampen, "Not all that long ago, judging by the tone."

"Well then they can't be far," Goddard sighed in relief.

"Yeah, but in what direction?" Bova indicated all the offshoots around them, leading to dark alleys that spilled into brightly lit streets flanked by towering skyscrapers.

No one had a chance to answer when Radu stiffened and grabbed Harlan by the arm, pulling him away.

"They've spotted us."

They all ran off in the direction they came, headed for a long alley leading to the large advertisements of the shopping district. Barely in, Ubi morphed into form, blocking their path.

"Well hello again," he purred.

Both Harlan and Radu jumped for the beast, but were rebuffed by two laser pistol stun rounds from behind. Both fell at Ubi's feet, clutching burnt arms.

Bova and Seth whirled to see Reaver positioned at the other end of the alley.

"I knew you'd show up eventually," he said coolly.

"Where's the rest of my crew?" Goddard growled menacingly.

Reaver bluffed at him. "On my ship. Had fun testing a few of the newest outer sector self-defense weapons on them. You'd be proud—they took it like champs."

Surprisingly, it was Bova who snapped at him. "You asshole!"

"Don't get cheeky, Uranian, and don't even think of trying anything cute," he threatened, pointing the gun between Bova's eyes, "It's but a switch to go from stun to kill."

Bova stepped back, seemingly standing down for a moment. Satisfied that the two wounded boys would stay on the floor and the Uranian pacified with a gun pointed at him, he turned to Seth.

"It's been so long since we've seen each other," he mocked, "I was beginning to miss you."

"Let my crew go."

"No can do, Commander. You're all wanted men in this area of space. Spung are doling out serious cash for live delivery. I intend to cash in. That means everybody comes with me."

"You'll take them over my dead body."

"Now, now, I don't want that. I want you alive so the Spung get a chance to put you in their gulag. That thought alone is enough for me. Although…" he grinned malignantly as he leaned in and spoke the Seth in a lowered voice, "I will get untold satisfaction hearing how you feel about me having violated your woman."

Bova stepped back, stunned, as Goddard's eyes widened before he launched himself at Reaver's throat. He managed to knock one of the pistols out of the pirate's hands and send it skittering down the alleyway behind them, but despite his fury, Reaver had Goddard on the ground, then stood menacingly above him with the remaining gun to his head.

"Anyone in this alley moves an inch and I blow his brains out the back of his skull," Reaver ordered, causing all three boys to freeze in place, despite their near-intention to get up and assist their commanding officer.

"You'd better fucking shoot me," Goddard threatened with all the venom in his voice he could muster, "Because if I get up, it'll be the last thing you see."

Reaver laughed. "I feel like I've heard similar threats from you before. And yet, here we are. But if you want to be dead, fine. I can take a 50,000 dollar hit for the satisfaction," he hissed menacingly as he toggled the stun/kill switch and the sound of it powering up buzzed through the alleyway.

He raised his arm to take better aim, but was surprised to see, then feel, a laser blast pass through it.

He dropped the pistol, howling in pain and turning to see T.J. Davenport, pointing his own gun shakily at him.

"You bitch," he growled, moving to loom toward her.

"Stay where you are!" she barked, "Next time, I'll aim better."

Ubi turned to exit out the other end of the alleyway when a small fireball caught his back.

Behind him, Rosie stood, glowing pink, looking fiercer than any of the crew had ever seen her.

"I have very good aim to start with," she announced as the morph pawed at the singed hole in his shirt.

Catalina slid into the alleyway then, city constabulary trailing close behind.

The distraction by the incoming reinforcements was just enough for Ubi to shift down the alley to Reaver, and morph away to some untold location.

Bova, for one, was fired up to go after him.

"Their ship is this way!" he insisted to the cops, "I've got firepower, let's go."

Catalina stilled the boy with a hand on his shoulder and a chuckle. "Bova, I think this is the most I've ever seen you care." He blushed as half of the police crew broke off and advanced without him.

Harlan and Radu dragged themselves off the floor to both embrace Catalina after Rosie waved them all off, warning that she was far too hot for contact at the moment. T.J. fell to her knees, pulling Seth close in a tight embrace.

"I have a feeling this is a long story," one cop said, "Let's go to the station. We can at least not sit in an alley."

* * *

Light filtered into their hotel room in from the bright banners of the Calden Port City. They had spent the evening recounting the story to the police and getting medical care for their wounds. It was the darkest parts of the night/early morning now, and even as tired as his body felt, watching her discard the last of the cooling packs from her numerous bruises as they stood out in a neon haze kept him wide awake.

"I don't know how I can ever express how sorry I am," he muttered, laying on the pillow, watching her near-naked form in the dim hotel room.

"For?"

"Reaver. The only reason any of you are caught up in this acts is because of me."

She shook her head. "Bounties are an enticing thing to members of the underbelly."

"Torture usually isn't," he murmured, noting every wound on her skin and internalizing it until it felt like the same damage had been done to him.

She didn't dare tell him that she and the girls had been used as target practice for when Reaver had hands on him. "No," she lied instead, "But we're talking a twisted man here. I imagine he'd torture anything. He told us he did it out of boredom."

He seemed to accept this white lie of hers, and she was grateful. His face tightened when he noticed the bite mark on her shoulder, though. She followed his gaze, sighing when she saw it.

The tone of his voice when he spoke was unlike any she had ever heard from him—several parts anger, several parts anguish, several unidentifiable notes. "He might harm you without my influence, but I'm sure that breaking me down is the only reason he went out of his way to rape you."

She flinched. "Who said anything about that?"

"He did," Seth replied, disgusted, though she had the sinking feeling it was only partly at Reaver.

She shook her head. "No, he was bluffing. Like he was bluffing about having us in custody."

He studied her gaze, likely trying to figure out if she was lying to him to spare his feelings. She sighed in defeat.

"He…attempted it. You and the men showed up just in time to distract him."

Seth looked slightly relieved, but frowned anyway. "He'd never have bothered unless he was trying to screw with me."

"He did say as much," she confessed, knowing that he would never believe whatever lie she came up with, "But his violence is hardly your doing."

"I'm a liability to your safety," he said sadly, sitting up and across from her, "Especially where he's concerned."

"Hardly. You saved me."

"I wouldn't have had something like that to save you from in the first place," he insisted, "That's just me fixing the fuck up."

She looked away, pondering how to get him to understand.

He reached for her, put his hands at the nape of her neck, and slipped the tags over her head.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't allow you to be a tool he uses against me. It's not fair to you."

Her face turned stormy. "You gave that to me. It's my property. You have no right to take it from me."

"T.J…."

"Put it back."

"Reaver…"

"Screw him and his damn feud with you!" she exploded, "Put that tag back now!"

"I'm doing this for your own good, T.J.," he sighed.

"To hell with your patronizing bullshit! You're not my father, you're my lover!"

"It's dangerous to be my lover!" he shouted.

"It's dangerous to be ANYTHING out here!" she shouted back, "Would you have me just give up and hide in this damn hotel room for the rest of my days because of what MIGHT happen?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you know I wouldn't," he argued.

"Then stop coddling me and let me choose which dangers are worth facing down."

He paused, and dropped his head in defeat.

"I really don't want him to harm you."

"I know."

"He's going to try."

"He will," she agreed, "He knows now anyway. Even if we never continued on for another day, we'd still have to be crewmates and friends. That's enough to manipulate and break you, and he knows it. It's impossible for you to live in a vacuum, and he'd use any other of your contacts as well as he'd use me. Please, don't let him frighten you out of what we have."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, lost and sorrowful.

"Exactly as I said. Give me back what's mine."

He looked into her eyes, their warm color somehow soothing to his soul. He sighed. She was right. This is exactly what Reaver wanted—to play into his self-doubt such that even if Reaver couldn't directly hurt him by keeping him from the woman he loved, he could con Seth into doing it to himself. To quit now in fear would be to let him win.

He replaced the dog tags over her head.

"Halfway there," she murmured lovingly, reaching for him, "Return it all to me."

He embraced her tightly, placing soft, gentle kisses over the savage bite on her shoulder. His tender hands on her body washed all remembrance of the pirate's touch out of her mind.

"Remember," she sighed into the hair at his temple, "Remember that promise you made. I don't intend to let you forget it."

"Please don't," he whispered.

They curled around each other and slept, the city buzzing and glowing outside, awake.


End file.
